


Lighting the Fuse

by pagerunner



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Perc'ahlia, Perc'ahlia Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7794835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagerunner/pseuds/pagerunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vex goes to meet Percy after his latest shopping expedition at Victor's. Banter, flirting, a touch of angst, and a couple of rather more literal touches ensue. Written for a prompt from the Perc'ahlia Vacation Challenge over on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lighting the Fuse

When Vex went to fetch Percy at Victor’s shop, a muffled explosion greeted her before her companion did.

She only had enough time to instinctively back up one step before the door swung open, squeaking slightly, tilted off its proper angle. On the opposite side stood a familiar silhouette, wreathed in smoke—someone else’s smoke, this time—and staring almost blankly at her through clouded spectacles. He looked…windblown, in a way. Dusted liberally with gray.

Somewhere in the background, Victor was cackling with laughter.

“Come again!” Vex heard, and she glimpsed a hand waving through the cloud. “Bring money! I make more! You can see…it works!”

Vex did her best to keep a smile off her face as Percy managed to say, “Quite.”

At that, the door swung shut on its own. It thudded loudly enough to make Percy jump and dispelled a faint cloud of dust that smelled suspiciously of black powder. Vex was certain she heard Victor laugh once more before the door finally stopped rattling.

Percy glared slightly when she failed at last to suppress a chortle.

“Darling,” she ventured to cover it up, “do you need any help with your—“

“No, I’m fine.” He adjusted his grip on the satchel he was holding. The highly explosive satchel. Vex gingerly took it from him anyway. “Perhaps we should head back.”

“That would be best,” Vex agreed, using her free hand to guide him away from the door. “Get back to the guild hall, get you cleaned up…”

“At least I remembered to leave my coat behind.”

She plucked at his sleeve. “The rest of it might need a good wash, though.”

“I was afraid of that,” Percy said, sounding so glum about it that Vex burst into absolute peals of laughter.

It was a lovely day for the walk back through Vasselheim, at least: clear skies and a light breeze, just enough to ruffle the worst of the dust out of Percy’s hair by the time they arrived. Vex led him past their fellow Slayer’s Take members in the entry hall before anyone could comment on the remainder of the mess. Then with Percy’s permission, she poked her head into his room long enough to safely deposit his purchases there. She couldn’t help but take a quick look around. His coat, as advertised, was hanging in the corner, and he’d left his toolkit open, with an assortment of instruments neatly arrayed across the small desk. He’d been working on something before they left, clearly. Vex, her curiosity piqued, leaned closer to see. She wondered if the latest black powder purchase was part of the recipe.

She refrained from touching any of it, though, especially once she noticed how grimy her own hands were.

“Looks like I might need a wash, too,” she remarked, arching an eyebrow and settling back on her heels. “Victor’s aura seems to be…catching.”

“It does that.” Percy let out one low chuckle. “To the baths, then?”

Her eyebrow didn’t lower, but she also refrained from saying anything. She merely followed Percy out, watched him fasten the door securely, and went with him the rest of the way down the corridor.

The Slayer’s Take hall wasn’t much on fineries, but it did have plenty of spaces for its adventurers to take care of themselves and their gear. The bath chamber they’d just stepped into had a ring of tubs and basins around a slightly scooped stone floor, well drained. A hearth set into one wall contained a warmly blazing fire, bracketed with benches and racks for things to dry. The place wasn’t designed for anyone much accustomed to privacy, but it still did the trick. For now, at least, Vex and Percy seemed to have the room to themselves.

Percy nodded briefly to Vex before going to draw some heated water; someone had finally shown them the trick of that, using certain taps engraved with fire charms. Vex busied herself instead with a smaller basin to wash her hands. She was facing away from Percy when she said, “So what were the damages this time? Besides to your clothing?”

“Hmm, sorry?”

“How much did you pay Victor?” she clarified. “I want to be sure you’re still getting your money’s worth.”

“Of course you do. Well. Same quantity as last time, same amount.”

She made a little _hmph,_ shaking water droplets off her fingers _._ “Seems we ought to be getting a frequent customer discount by now.”

She heard an amused little chuckle. “Next time, then, you can come with me and aid in the negotiating.”

“I’d rather stay in possession of all my limbs, thank you.”

“If that’s the case, I should start getting hazard pay for this.”

“Hazard? As if this black powder business isn’t entirely your fault in the first place, and—oh, do stop laughing at me.”

He was laughing, in fact, broadly enough that at least Vex could be sure he was free of his earlier shock. “Turnabout, dear,” he said.

Vex turned to give him a look. She soon found herself distracted. Percy had bent to stop the flow of water into his tub, having already discarded his soot-stained shirt, and she had to take the opportunity to enjoy the view—especially since he was ordinarily the most modest of the lot of them, despite the inevitable erosion of privacy after months on the road, and chances were few.

Vex watched as he noticed her inspection. A touch of color came to his cheeks. Slowly he lowered his gaze, although the smile hadn’t truly left his lips.

“Shall I see about getting someone to tend to your clothes?” she said, briefly eyeing his trousers. Percy set his glasses on a nearby shelf with more of a _clunk_ than he’d probably intended.

“Just…give me a moment first.”

“Certainly.” Vex took the hint and turned her back, pretending to find something else to clean. She heard another rustle of fabric, a subtle splash of water, a long, quiet sigh. It took all of her restraint not to look again too quickly.

She knew better, after all. Pushing Percy too much would only force a retreat, if he began feeling unsteady or unsure. This whole thing with him—their almost-flirtation, developing slowly but still promisingly over weeks now—was more a game of drawing him out of himself. Convincing Percy of all people to stop _thinking_ so much.

Physical comfort was one good way to get that started.

Vex smiled to herself as she heard another soft hum. She went to the mirror in the room, checking the state of her hair—acceptable, she thought, after a little arranging—and then used the reflection to gauge how things were going. She could only see a little of Percy in the glass, but from the looks of it, he’d leaned his head back, letting his eyes drift closed.

Perfect.

Vex padded across the room, scooped up his discarded clothes, and almost silently slipped away with them to the corner where the laundry was gathered. Then she made her return. She’d picked up the towel that rested on a stool beside his tub, meaning to sit there herself, when she heard Percy say, “I’d hoped you weren’t planning on stranding me here _completely_ naked.”

Her lips curved into another smile as she sat. Percy, she noticed, had subtly but quickly rearranged himself to block certain lines of sight. “Would I do that?”

“I don’t know, the way you and your brother mess with people….”

“Oh, Vax is _far_ worse about pranks than I am.”

His expression turned wry. “True, but I’m suspecting he has less of a vested interest in seeing me unclothed.”

Vex tried to look innocent, probably badly. Probably _very_ badly. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind taking a peek. Not that it’s any of his business. Or mine, I suppose, but…”

“Here you are.”

His tone was more knowing than Vex was expecting. She properly looked him over then, taking note of not only his expression but some of the finer details. His shoulders and arms, propped above the water on the rim of the tub, weren’t extraordinarily strong but were still nicely muscled. The familiar Slayer’s Take brand was clearly visible on the right. It wasn’t the only scar, however. Everyone in Vox Machina had them, of course, of varying severity, but Percy’s were strangely distinctive. Vex found her gaze tracking to an odd, knotted one on his chest, not much obscured by the light overlay of hair. She frowned, but said nothing until Percy asked, “May I?”

He was holding a hand out for the towel. Vex shook herself, said, “Of course,” and passed it over. When he readied to lever himself out of the tub, she politely averted her gaze. This time, he had to clear his throat for Vex to swivel around again.

To her surprise, he’d rounded the tub and was standing directly in front of her.

She got up, too, taking it in. Percy had quickly dried himself, and obviously tousled his hair with the towel before slinging the fabric around his hips. It hung just low enough that Vex gave it an approving look before Percy said, “You may as well ask.”

“There are…so many things I could be asking right now, Percival,” she said, as her gaze slowly traveled back up. “You might have to be more specific.”

He gestured to the scar.

Vex felt an odd little twinge. She did want to know, but she’d been trying _not_ to let him dwell on things like this right now. In the end, she simply didn’t say anything. Percy, perhaps understanding her, kept his answer both quiet and brief. “There were…reasons I wasn’t pleased about getting our brands,” he said.

Vex thought about that. She remembered the fear on Percy’s face as they were led into the dark beneath this hall for the ritual—a fear she hadn’t fully understood at the time. She was starting to get an inkling now. He’d told her very little, after all, about the time in his life he’d been held captive, or more to the point, what had been done to him there, but it was suddenly all too easy to connect the dots. “Ripley?” she asked carefully. “Did _she_ do that?”

“She marked me,” he said, a bit too calmly. “I burned it off.”

Vex swore under her breath, staring in renewed horror. He gave her a humorless smile. “For what it’s worth, I don’t remember much of it.”

She shuddered. “Still.”

“Still,” he echoed. A complicated look passed across his face before he tamped it down. “We all have scars. I imagine there’s stories to go with most of them.”

“True,” she murmured, before she deliberately lightened her voice. “Except for that ugly one on my knee that I don’t remember getting, either. Probably banged it up on a tree.”

His smile flickered back. “I could believe that.”

“And there’s one scar of Vax’s where he _swears_ he doesn’t know what happened, but I think he’s just trying to cover up that he did something stupid…”

She laughed when she said it, but it felt forced, and she trailed off. After a second she looked up at Percy, who was watching her like he knew very well what she’d been trying to do. Well. Of course he would.

She admitted at last, “I have one or two of the other kind, too. They’re just…harder to see.”

There was understanding in Percy’s eyes. Before he could say anything, though—before he could ask for the details, or offer something sympathetic—she said, “They’re not the only interesting thing about me, though.”

“I never thought they were.”

Her heart skipped oddly. Percy was standing even closer now, and his voice when he’d said that was so warm. Her own went soft. “Neither are yours, Percy. No matter how deep they go.”

He tried to hide it, but she could see him tremble. Vex let herself reach out.

“Of course,” she said, slowly going more arch again, “if you _do_ have any, oh, aesthetically intriguing ones, or secret tattoos, or funny-shaped birthmarks…”

Her finger hooked under the edge of the towel. Percy drew in a breath, but didn’t stop her.

“You could still share,” she finished.

Percy didn’t reply to the words. He _did_ respond to the wink. He caught her hand, moving it disappointingly away from his hip, but then he drew it upward, studying it as if trying to make a decision. His fingers curled gently around hers. Warmth spread under her skin where he held her, bloomed with a sweet sort of ache far deeper.

It was such an innocent touch in its way, but the intimacy of it was like nothing Percy had ever done before, and so—regardless of what sort of ideas Vex was suddenly, irresistibly getting—she held her breath, watched him, and waited it out.

Waited, while he stood right at the edge of daring, and she stared at his eyes without his glasses in between for once, struck how very, very blue they were…

Something echoed in the hall behind them.

Percy turned, and Vex muttered, “Well, _shit,”_ as the sound resolved into footsteps and a moving door latch. Percy let go of her hand, quickly but gently. For Vex’s part, she wasn’t about to act like a guilty teenager caught out at something, but she was still grateful that the man who walked in thereafter with a clatter of dirty armor wasn’t someone they knew. He only nodded tiredly at the both of them and moved on to wash up, largely ignoring them.

The moment, however, was broken. Vex sighed, feeling cross. Eventually her attention returned to Percy, who’d turned aside to find a robe.

“We’ll talk later, all right?” she said, reaching for the right thing to offer. “Maybe…maybe I can help with that new project you’re working on.”

He turned a folded robe over in his hands. “I…yes. That would be agreeable.”

“ _Agreeable_.”

Percy’s answering laugh was a little self-deprecating before he angled again toward honesty. “All right. I’d appreciate the company.”

“There. That wasn’t so hard to say, was it?”

He smiled halfway. “No.”

“Good. And after all, you could use a watchful eye. We don’t want you blowing yourself up again, do we?”

“All right, now, that explosion at the shop was Victor’s fault, not mine.”

“Of course,” Vex said teasingly. She gave him the other half of that smile, making a matching pair. Slowly, though, she felt her expression soften. "Oh, and Percy..."

"Yes?"

She thought about it. She very carefully thought about it. And then, taking the chance, she made the decision Percy hadn’t.

She reached up to touch him, right over the scar.

When her palm covered the angry-looking mark, she felt the deep, rough breath that went through him. She also felt the way he leaned into the touch, saw the look on his face. There were complicated emotions there, no question…but one of them was yearning.

Even though they weren’t alone, even though she was risking going too far, she stayed right there and let it linger.

Then she took a page from her brother’s book and simply walked away.

 _I wasn’t wrong,_ she thought, with a private little thrill. She bit her lip, but she also kept her head held high. _Oh, if_ that’s _how he feels…_

She smiled when she passed the mirror on the way out. To her satisfaction, it showed in perfect detail how attentively—and appreciatively—Percy was watching her go.

_With any luck, tonight we’ll be making explosions of our own._


End file.
